Unusual Circumstances
by WeasleyWannabee
Summary: Modern AU. James and Lily get to know each other a little better after an . . . unconventional encounter.
1. Strip Tease

**A/N: Ha, I am so terrible at coming up with titles. ANYWAY, this started out as a one-shot at the bequest of my friend Bree, and quickly turned into a two-shot. I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>"I can't believe you're getting <em>married<em> tomorrow," Marlene gushed as she stood on tiptoe to grab three glasses from the cabinet above the sink.

"God, me neither," Dorcas said.

"Oh come on, Dorky, you haven't been able to stop smiling all week," Marlene said with a roll of her eyes, passing a glass to Lily and Dorcas.

"She has a point, Dor," Lily agreed.

"Yeah, all right," Dorcas relented, as a big grin spread demonstratively across her face.

"And you should be happy," Lily continued. "John is lovely. And you're going to look so beautiful in your dress—not that you aren't always beautiful, of course."

"It's too bad John's going to ruin your _beautiful_ dress when he rips it off with his teeth afterwards," Marlene said with a devious grin, popping the cork on the champagne and filling the other girls' glasses.

"Graphic, Marlene," Lily said.

"Only for you, Miss Innocent," her friend countered. "But let's toast—to Dorcas Meadowes and her sure to be mind-blowing wedding night."

"Hear, hear," Lily added as Dorcas laughed, clinking her glass with the others and taking a sip. "So, what's on for tonight, bride-to-be?"

"A little private celebration here, and then I thought we could go out somewhere . . ." She and Marlene exchanged looks.

"What?" Lily asked, a suspicious frown appearing between her brows.

"Well, you know, McClanighan's is always fun—" Dorcas started casually.

Lily's eyes widened. "No. Oh no, no, no, you are not doing that to me."

"Doing what?" Dorcas asked, still trying to maintain an innocent expression.

"Manipulating me into going there because you know I have to do whatever you want tonight!"

"You're over-exaggerating, Lils, it's just a pub," Marlene said placatingly.

But Lily refused to be persuaded. There was no way she was going back to that place to be aggressively chatted up by the—admittedly cute—bartender who _always_ seemed to be on shift when she and her friends went out. "I'm sorry, Dorcas, but I will not be put through that again."

"He is fit, Lily, you can't deny that."

As she had, indeed, just acknowledged this fact to herself, Lily nodded begrudgingly. "That's the problem. He thinks because he's attractive it excuses his annoying behavior."

Marlene sighed dramatically. "You sound like a snob, Lils."

"No, Lily just has a more refined taste than you, Marls," Dorcas said with false sweetness, earning a glare from Marlene. "It's all right," she added to Lily, "we'll go somewhere else. There're a lot of places that—"

A knock on the door cut her off, and Marlene returned Dorcas's cloying smile of moments before. "She's going to kill you," she said in a sing-song voice.

"She can't—I have to get married in the morning," Dorcas declared confidently, setting down her glass of champagne and moving towards the door.

It swung open on a tall young man with disheveled black hair and hazel eyes that sparkled with a certain mischief. He was dressed in dark jeans and red suspenders that stretched over a plaid flannel shirt whose sleeves had been ripped off. But despite his unusual attire, Lily's eyes immediately widened in horrified recognition.

It was him. The bartender—she could only recall that his last name was 'Potter', though she remembered every flirtatious word he'd spoken to her with perfect clarity.

"Evening, ladies," Potter said, swinging what Lily dearly hoped was a fake ax from hand to hand. "I heard you might need some things torn down in here."

Marlene was doubled over in laughter, hanging onto the kitchen counter for support. Lily stood beside her in furious silence, torn between yelling at her mates and wishing she could become invisible.

Dorcas, keeping an admirable hold on her composure, smiled coyly at James. "Well, I'm not married yet . . . come right in."

Potter's gaze flicked over Marlene, still sniggering uncontrollably, and finally to Lily, who found herself unable to look away once their eyes met. After giving her a conspiratorial smile, as though they were sharing some private joke, Potter turned back to Dorcas. "Is there somewhere I could . . ." he began, digging an iPod out of his pocket.

"Yes, right over there," Dorcas said, pointing to the speaker dock above her fireplace.

Potter leaned his ax against the wall, plugged in his iPod, and pressed play. Immediately, the booming lyrics of "Cherry Pie" filled the small flat, and Potter started to swing his hips to the beat. This set Marlene into another fit of giggles, and Lily could tell Dorcas was biting back hard on a smile as well. As Potter slowly drew his suspenders over his shoulders, Lily suddenly understood why he'd donned such a strange outfit. "Oh, God," she whispered.

Just as the lead singer let out a guttural cry, James whipped around and gave his trousers a sharp tug. They tore free easily, splitting along the snaps that had apparently held them together. Marlene let out a loud cheer, and Lily attempted to hide her face behind her champagne flute, though the skinny, transparent object did not make for much of a shield.

"This is not happening," she muttered to herself, settling instead for averting her eyes from Potter's tight boxers.

With a wicked grin, Potter gyrated his way towards Dorcas, who smiled gamely and pretended to grind against him, eliciting another appreciative shout from Marlene. The other girl ran forward and started dancing behind Potter, hips moving in sync with his. As Lily watched, she couldn't help thinking how ridiculous the three of them looked, and her lips, pursed tightly moments before, relaxed into a smile.

That is, until Potter's eyes locked with hers. The impish glint in his eyes intensified, and he slid from between Dorcas and Marlene, swaggering towards Lily instead. "No, please don't—" she implored, holding up her hands in an effort to keep him at bay.

But she should have known better. He'd never heeded her protests in the past, so why should tonight be any different?

She backed against the counter behind her, leaning instinctively away as Potter advanced, undoing the buttons on his shirt. His eyes never left hers, and Lily could feel her face heat up as he came closer. She tried to focus on the song rather than Potter's bare chest, but soon realized that this was a mistake. _"She wanted me to feed her/So I mixed up the batter/And she licked the beater . . ."_

Lily heard Potter chuckle softly and closed her eyes briefly, sure she'd never blushed this hard in her life and desperately hoping this was all a bad dream. When she opened them again, she jumped at finding Potter's face inches from hers, his hands planted against the cabinets on either side of her head. "Hello, Miss Evans," he said in a low voice.

And Lily, with frantic thoughts of escape pushing her on, impulsively tossed the remaining contents of her glass straight in his face.

Potter let out a yell of surprise and stumbled back, spluttering. Lily glared heatedly at him before turning her smoldering gaze on her mates. All she'd wanted was a night out with just the three of them, but now . . .

Dorcas had her hands over her mouth and an alarmed look in her wide brown eyes; no sign of laughter remained on Marlene's face.

The latter took a hesitant step forward. "Lily," she tried, "look, we just thought it would be a laugh if—"

"Am I laughing?" Lily asked flatly. Striding to the other end of the room, she snatched up her purse and threw open the door to the flat. "See you at the wedding," she growled, and not bothering to shut the door behind her, she marched into the hall and stomped angrily down the stairs.

On the second floor landing, she heard someone clattering down the stairs above her.

"Hang on, there, Miss Evans," called Potter, and Lily's fists clenched at the sound of his voice.

She whipped around to face him—thankfully, he'd put his clothes back on, although only half of the snaps were done up on his trousers. "Go away . . . Potter!" she bit out, still unable to remember his first name.

"James," the other supplied helpfully, and his amused expression only infuriated Lily further.

"Whatever," she said impatiently, moving towards the stairs again.

"Wait," James said, grabbing her arm. Lily shot him a smoldering look, and James promptly let go, raising his hands in surrender. "Okay, just . . . I'm sorry. I didn't think you would—I mean, your friend, the one getting married—"

"Dorcas," Lily gritted out between clenched teeth.

"Right, Dorcas—she thought it might, you know, even things out between us if I—"

"Humiliated me? She's got a funny way of settling the score."

James gave her an odd look. "I'd say I'm the one who should have felt humiliated back there."

Lily let out a harsh laugh. "Yes, you seemed incredibly embarrassed," she said derisively.

Ruffling his hair absently, James said, "Well, you didn't see the weeks of preparation that took, or the endless taunting I got from my roommate Sirius. I had this whole bit planned out—shame you didn't get to see all of it, really." Belatedly realizing this didn't exactly help his cause, James rushed on, "But it wasn't supposed to make _you _uncomfortable, it was supposed to make me look like an idiot, although you probably already thought that, anyway . . ." There was a moment of silence, before James added quietly, "And I'm not actually a stripper, just to be clear."

"It showed," Lily said, but her expression had softened slightly.

Instantly, the grin returned to James's face. "Ouch. But I guess I deserved that."

Leaning back against the wall with a sigh, Lily relented at last, "All right, I might have overreacted a bit. Dorcas probably _was _only trying to help . . ." Feeling guilty, Lily bit her lip. "I shouldn't have thrown that champagne at you, and I definitely shouldn't have stormed out like that, I mean it's supposed to be Dorcas's hen night and ev—" She stopped because James had started laughing. "What?"

He shook his head incredulously. "You're joking, right?" Lily frowned at him, uncomprehending. Slumping against the wall next to her, he let out another short laugh. "Christ—you're actually that nice, aren't you? Look, you _can _be angry, all right? It was a stupid idea, and yet here you are practically apologizing to me and worried about what your friend's thinking—"

Lily paused, unsure how to respond. Her eyes traveled over James's lumberjack clothes and her mouth twisted slightly. "I really can't talk to you seriously when you're wearing those," she said.

"Well, you seemed even less capable of speech when I was without them, so I figured this would be more prudent," James replied. He grinned when Lily's lips twitched in spite of herself. "Was that nearly a smile? It was! Don't try to hide it from me, Miss Evans, it's too late."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what? Make you smile uncontrollably? I don't know, s'pose it's just my natural charm that—"

"No," Lily interrupted, "why do you keep calling me 'Miss Evans'?"

"Oh, that. Well, you might recall that you accused me of acting in too friendly a manner last time we met, so I figured I'd better go with a little more formality, just to be on the safe side." He smirked at her, and Lily nearly found herself smiling again in return. His crooked grin was dangerously contagious, and she had to glance away to gain control of her features before speaking.

"I think what I actually said was that I didn't know you well enough for you to be . . . you know . . ." To her dismay, she could feel her cheeks begin to flush again at the thought of the things he'd said to her the many times their paths had crossed, how he'd known just the way to leave her flustered and speechless. In fact, she was fairly certain that's why he did it in the first place—he enjoyed unsettling her.

"Chatting you up?" James offered in the silence of her unfinished sentence. "Well, I couldn't help it—I was hopeless in the face of such beauty."

At this, Lily couldn't keep from laughing. "You cannot be real. No one says things like that!"

"I'm as real as you, Miss Evans," James assured her. "Although I'm only assuming you're still pretty—I'm blind as a bat without my specs. But they didn't really go with the rest of the ensemble."

"Mmm, yes, they might get damaged during all of your . . . lumberjacking." She laughed again, and James smiled in return. They were both quiet for a while, and Lily caught herself admiring the subtle mix of brown, green, and blue in his eyes. Glancing swiftly away, she searched for something to say. "I didn't mean that you had to be formal, exactly," she murmured finally, continuing their earlier conversation. "I just wanted . . ." she sighed quietly. "I don't know—I just wished you'd treated me like a normal person." James finally had the good grace to look abashed, but Lily didn't notice and went on with a little laugh, "I guess I'm just not really into the whole pub scene. You know, where all the blokes are only looking to take a girl home for the night—"

"I wasn't looking for that," James said quickly. "Honest, I wasn't. You always just seemed so . . ."

"Uptight?" Lily suggested dully.

"No. Interesting." Lily eyed him skeptically, and James flushed faintly. "Right, that doesn't sound very complimentary, but . . . uh . . ." He laughed nervously, rubbing his neck. "I dunno, I guess I always got this feeling when you were around that I was supposed to get to know you . . ." Shaking his head, he shifted his gaze to the opposite railing. "Sounds pretty mad, doesn't it?"

Lily watched him in astonishment. Gone was the easy confidence and arrogant charm that he usually exuded in nauseating waves. Suddenly, _he _was the flustered one, stumbling over words, unable to meet her eye. Just as she was beginning to consider whether she'd spectacularly misjudged him, James spoke again.

"Well, I should be going, shouldn't I? You've got a hen party to return to, and I have proper clothing to find." Pushing off from the wall, he looked down at her with a smile. "Always a pleasure, Miss Evans."

Lily found herself on the verge of asking him to stay, to come out with her, Dorcas, and Marlene . . . but of course that was ridiculous. He was right—he couldn't go anywhere dressed like that. Instead, she returned his smile, saying, "Just 'Lily' is fine."

"I'll keep that in mind. See you around, Lily."

After Dorcas and Marlene had each apologized about a hundred times, to the point where Lily became more frustrated with their contrition than the fact that they'd invited James there without her knowledge, and after Dorcas had insisted Lily decide what they do for the rest of the evening, things finally settled back on the track Lily'd had in mind earlier. Only now, she found her thoughts constantly returning to James Potter, regretting again that she hadn't invited him along . . . She almost suggested they go to McClanighan's after all, before realizing that of course James probably wasn't working that night.

Instead, they ended up at another of their favorite pubs on the other side of town. Lily tried to force James from her mind and focus on Dorcas, and was nearly succeeding until her friend grabbed her arm, insisting urgently, "I swear I didn't ask him here, Lily . . ."

Lily followed her shocked look to the door of the pub, where incredibly, James himself had just walked through. He was accompanied by two young men; one was exceedingly handsome, and wore a smirk reminiscent of the one Lily had seen on James many a time, while the other had a quieter, shyer smile and hung slightly behind the other two.

To her surprise, Lily found that she'd already slid off her stool and was balanced on the balls of her feet, hand lifting to wave James over. But she hesitated for just a moment, unsure whether he was merely out for a night with his mates as she was and didn't want to be interrupted. In those small seconds, the three boys disappeared towards a table at the far end of the room.

"Oh, go over there already, would you?" Marlene said impatiently, nudging Lily with an elbow.

"Five minutes—that's all, I promise," Lily said to Dorcas, who was smiling incredulously.

"Some days I swear I don't know you at all, Lily Evans," was all she said in return, before flapping her hand as though to shoo Lily away.

Leaving her drink with Marlene—and fully expecting it to be gone by the time she returned—Lily began to weave her way across the pub to James's table.

"—no way it's going to work," he was saying as she approached. Lily noticed he was once again wearing the round spectacles that usually perched on his nose. "Even you couldn't pull that off, mate, I'm sorry to—"

"Hi," Lily said, the word coming out slightly breathless after her fight through the crowd.

James looked up. "Well, imagine seeing you here, Evans," he said, face breaking into a disarmingly adorable crooked grin that made Lily's breath catch in her throat. "And still beautiful, as I suspected," he added, tapping his specs.

"I said you could call me Lily," she managed, hoping he wouldn't notice her slightly strangled tone.

"Nah, I like 'Evans' better," James said.

"He's a stripper, you know," one of James's mates—the smirking one—put in.

"Bugger off, Sirius," James retorted, eyes never leaving Lily's.

"Oi, you can't just tell me to—"

"Come on, you dolt," the third man said, prodding his friend in the side to make him move.

"Fine. Remus and I will go prove you wrong—that line is going to work on one of these birds in here, mark my words."

"Great," James said absently, still watching Lily with an amused smile.

She slid onto the bench James's mates had vacated. "You don't give up easily, do you?" James quirked a questioning eyebrow. "All those times you've flirted with me, despite the fact that I didn't exactly encourage it; persisting with calling me 'Evans' even though I told you to call me Lily . . . I mean, it's probably something I should know about you, right? If we're going to be friends."

James leaned back, crossing his arms. "Are we?" he asked archly.

"Yes. See, I'm stubborn too—that's something _you _should know."

"So what you're saying is that we'll probably fight a lot."

"Probably. But I'm also—maybe paradoxically—too nice for my own good, as you've already observed, so I don't think it'll ruin the friendship," Lily assured him.

"Because you're going to let me win every time."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "I didn't say that. Certainly that would be disastrous, considering you already think too highly of yourself."

Grin widening, James leaned his elbows on the table. "So let me get this straight—we should be friends because you need someone to practice being mean on and I could stand to be taken down a few pegs? Is that about right?"

"Mmm, I'm glad we understand each other," Lily said, nodding satisfactorily.

James nodded slowly, lips pursed in consideration. "All right. You're on, Evans. Now, can I buy you a drink? You appear to be lacking one, and I'm in need of something myself. A friendly drink, that's all," he added when Lily hesitated. "Or it can be an unkind drink, if you'd prefer to take a crack at yelling at me instead."

"Why don't you make it a friendly one, and then if you try any funny business I can always dump it on you again."

James pointed a finger at her. "Brilliant. Always thinking ahead, aren't you, Evans?"

"Just get the drinks, Potter."

He returned with two beers, taking a sip of his own as he settled across from her once more. "Okay, what else do I need to know about you, friend?" he asked.

Lily opened her mouth to reply, but just then a voice called over the chatter around them, "Oy, Potter!"

Both Lily and James turned toward the sound to find Sirius grinning at them from beside the ancient jukebox at the far end of the pub.

"This lovely young woman," he indicated the tall brunette beside him, "doesn't believe you're really a stripper."

"I'm not," James shouted back. By now, several people around them had stopped their conversations and were watching the exchange curiously.

Sirius grinned. "Who here would like to see my mate strip? Come on, ladies, he's single—"

There were several cheers, and Sirius turned to press something on the jukebox. For the second time that night, Lily heard the opening lines of "Cherry Pie". Sirius spread his hands and swiveled his hips mockingly, staring challengingly at James.

The latter sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Sorry about this," he said to Lily, taking off his glasses. "Can you hold these for me?" Taking a few more gulps of his beer, he stood up from the table, facing the main floor of the pub. He fumbled for a moment with something at the front of his trousers, and next thing Lily knew, he'd whipped his belt off, throwing it onto the table behind him.

More cheers went up around the room at this, and Lily's hand flew to her mouth to hide a smile. Winking swiftly over his shoulder at her, James moved into the crowd, which parted before him as he advanced with a pelvis-thrusting walk that earned him several screams from a group of girls at the bar.

Stopping at a table in line with the door, James bent down beside a middle-aged woman. "Ma'am, do you mind if I borrow your water glass for a moment?" The woman seemed too surprised to do anything but nod, and James lifted the glass above his head, pouring its contents slowly over himself as he shook his head back and forth. Handing the glass back to its bewildered owner, he ran a hand through his hair and leaped onto the table itself.

This caught the attention of one of the bartenders, who called out in alarm, "Sir! Sir, you can't be up there!"

Ignoring him in favor of his increasingly appreciative audience, James began to inch his now wet shirt up his stomach, hips undulating all the while.

"Excuse me!" the bartender shouted, now indignant. "Sir, you can't—"

But his admonishment was abruptly cut short when James tossed his shirt straight into the man's face. Lily couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed this much. Just as James popped open the button on his jeans, however, the bouncer pushed his way through the crowd around the table. "All right, mate, let's go," he said, crossing his muscled arms.

James sized the man up, then turned back to the crowd with a shrug. "Show's over, folks."

Several disappointed cries met this announcement as James hopped down to the floor. Lily hurried over, lips shaking with the effort of not smiling as she handed James his belt and specs.

"Well, sorry to have to cut our evening short, Evans," he said as he placed the latter on his nose and started stringing the former through his jeans.

"Come on, Casanova," the bouncer said impatiently.

"Yeah, all right, mate, just give us two seconds, eh?" To Lily, "Don't think this means you're getting out of this friendship business, now. I'm determined to—"

"Come to the wedding with me," Lily said suddenly.

"What?"

"I don't have a date, and I was just planning to borrow Marlene's boyfriend for a few songs, but—" The bouncer grabbed James's arm, and the two started backing towards the door. Lily followed, snatching a napkin and pen off a nearby table and scribbling hastily on it. "Here—this is my phone number. The ceremony's at four. Unless you're busy, or don't want to, obviously—"

"I'll pick you up at three thirty," James said, crooked grin back in place. "Although I should warn you—I look devilishly handsome in a suit. It'd be best if you start preparing yourself now."

Lily smirked in return. "Well, you haven't seen my dress yet."

"Very true. Until tomorrow, then, Miss Evans."


	2. Wedding Date

James double-checked the numbers scrawled on the napkin in a curly hand to make sure he'd entered them correctly before hitting the green call button on his phone. Surprisingly, he felt his stomach twist with nerves as he waited for an answer on the other line. "Stop it," he commanded himself in a quiet mutter, just as someone on the other end of the call said, "Hello?"

"Oh, er, hi," James responded, caught off guard and wincing at his stuttered reply. "Yes, I'd like to place an order for a beautiful girl?" he added in an effort to regain some of his swagger.

"James?" the voice on the other line asked warily.

"Yeah, I'm partial to redheads, if you've got one," James continued, ignoring Lily's question. "Big green eyes, dash of freckles on her nose, cute little scar above her left eyebrow—how'd you get that, by the way?"

"My sister pushed me into the edge of our kitchen table when I was five because I stole her favorite book. Bit of an overreaction on her part, I didn't even know how to read properly yet. But you sound like you're calling an escort service, and I'm afraid we don't offer that here."

"Madame!" James gasped, feigning deep offense. "I don't know how you could possibly make such a scandalous assumption, I am a respectable gentleman, I'll have you know—"

"I've yet to see evidence of that," Lily cut in sweetly. "Though you can start proving it by showing up on time this afternoon."

"Three thirty, yes, I remember," James assured her. "Just making sure you did."

"I'm preparing myself for your promised-to-be-dashing appearance as we speak."

"Excellent. I suppose I should ring off so I can start doing the same."

"I suppose you should."

"See you in a couple of hours, Miss Evans."

After calling back almost immediately because he'd forgotten to ask where she lived, which of course had been the purpose of his original call (she had an uncanny way of unintentionally distracting him), James ducked his head into his flat mate's bedroom. Waking Sirius generally involved much shouting and prodding, but today James was surprised to find his mate up and digging around in the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed for a clean shirt.

"What's happened?" James asked, immediately assuming that something must have gone wrong for Sirius to willingly rouse himself.

"Nothing," Sirius said, frowning as he pulled on a black _Rolling Stones_ t-shirt.

"You're awake," James pointed out.

"I am," Sirius agreed, now pinning on his name badge for McClanighan's pub, where they both bartended five or six evenings a week.

"Caroline's on tonight, isn't she?" James asked, finally working it out. Sirius had been pursuing the curvy, dark-haired hostess for nearly a week now, a difficult feat both because she worked up front while he was mostly behind the bar, and—more significantly—because she had a boyfriend.

With a grin, Sirius clapped James on the shoulder. "Yes, she is."

James shook his head with a sigh. "You've seen the bloke she's with, yeah? You're going to get yourself killed if you keep this up."

"Well, he's a twit, so I'm not worried. And you can't lecture me about chasing unattainable women, Potter. How is your flower, anyway?"

"Taking me to a wedding tonight," James said smugly.

"Oh, that's a date? I thought she'd hired you as entertainment," Sirius said with a smirk, jumping out of range of the swipe James took at him. It had only been the night before that Sirius had challenged James to show off his newly acquired stripper skills, an endeavor Sirius found endlessly hilarious.

But it had paid off in the end, though James suspected this had less to do with the actual stripping than . . . well, he wasn't quite sure why Lily had asked him as her date to Dorcas's wedding. Not that he'd admit this to Sirius, of course.

"Yes, it's a date, you sod," he grumbled—he was fairly certain it was, anyway—ignoring Sirius's laughter as he continued down the hall to the bathroom.

After showering and taming his hair as much as could be expected, James shrugged into the only suit he owned. He hardly had occasion to wear one, but his dad had always said that a man should own at least one good suit. And so James had gone to the tailor's to get an expertly cut, dark grey, three-piece Italian suit two years prior. He chose a scarlet and yellow striped tie to go with it, though, which ruined the look just enough so that he didn't feel a complete prat.

Of course, this didn't stop Sirius from commenting as he entered the kitchen, "So this is the sort of tosser you'd look like if you'd kept in the family business?"

James's father had been CEO of a successful investment firm before he'd died of a heart attack when James was eight. Stress of the job, most likely, which had been enough to encourage James to steer as far away from the corporate career path as possible.

"Imagine all the women I'd be shagging, though," James said with a grin, but Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Right. You'd still want the same one, no matter how many others were throwing themselves at you."

Privately acknowledging the truth of this, James still felt obligated to protest, " 'Course not. I'd be the one giving you a good pummeling after you tried to get off with my girl."

"Not in that suit, you wouldn't," Sirius replied with a nod at James. "Anyway, I'm off—let us hope we both find fortune with our Aphrodites tonight. Wish me luck!"

"No, thanks," James said.

"Cheers," Sirius said dryly, snatching up his keys and letting the door to their flat fall to with a bang behind him.

James sat down on one of the stools at their breakfast bar, still a few minutes early for picking up Lily. He spent the intervening time swiveling slowly back and forth, checking his watch obsessively and trying to ignore the fluttery feeling that had once again arisen in his stomach. Finally, at a few minutes to three, he hopped in his car, punching Lily's address into the sat nav system. The pleasant female voice within directed him to her building, though he had to circle the block several times before a parking spot opened up.

Leaping up the stairs two at a time, he stopped in front of flat 2B and knocked three times. A brunette woman of medium height opened the door. Her hair was done up into an elegant twist at the back of her head and she was wearing a low-cut, clinging red dress that emphasized the shapely hips where her hands now rested, mouth twisted in consideration at the sight of James. "I still think you look better without clothes, but this isn't a bad job," she declared boldly after a moment. "Come in, Lily'll be out in a minute."

"D'you want a drink or anything?" the young woman offered over her shoulder as she grabbed a pair of pearl earrings from a small table in the entryway.

"No thanks, er . . ." James paused, trying to remember the brunette's name.

"Marlene," the other supplied, grinning as she fit the second earring into her right ear. "It's all right, the way you're always staring at Lily I wouldn't expect you to remember me."

James flushed just as the subject of their conversation said, "Stop harassing him, Marlene. And aren't you supposed to be getting Andrew, like, now?"

Marlene's observation proved entirely accurate, as James found himself so distracted by Lily's pale blue, off-the-shoulder dress that he hardly heard Marlene say she'd see him at the ceremony. Her snicker at his lack of reply echoed from the hallway as she shut the door. James clenched his jaw tightly, afraid that if he opened his mouth to say anything he'd just end up gawking at Lily like an idiot.

"Look at you," Lily said appreciatively after Marlene had left, thankfully saving James from having to speak. Her dark red hair flowed around her shoulders in loose curls, and she brushed one away from her face before adding, "It's refreshing not to see you in a ratty t-shirt with some obscene phrase printed across the front."

"I do not own any offensive shirts," James started to protest, recovering his voice at last.

"You have one that says _Tits Or Bust_," Lily pointed out dryly.

"Which is clever, because—"

"Yes, I get the joke, Potter," Lily interrupted, clearly not finding it as entertaining as James had when he'd seen it in the shop.

He grinned. "Okay, then. Shall we?" He offered her his arm, but Lily pushed it back against his side with a roll of her eyes. Chuckling, James followed her out of the door, taking over the lead once they were outside and leaving Lily to open her own car door, since she'd clearly demonstrated her dislike for typical male chivalry. Which was good, since James hated doing it. It made him feel like . . . well, like one of those "tossers" Sirius had referred to earlier.

"I'm surprised you found parking on a Saturday," Lily commented as James pulled out onto the street.

"I nearly didn't. I thought I was going to have to call you and have you jump in as I drove by."

"I'm not sure I'd have managed that in this dress. Or these shoes. I'm rubbish at walking in heels. Even standing still in them is a challenge."

"Well, you rudely rejected my offer of assistance, so I won't have you complaining tonight, Evans."

"I wasn't complaining," Lily objected. "I was merely stating a fact. Ask any girl, she'd say the same."

"Just because everyone has the same complaint doesn't mean it's not a complaint," James said.

Lily let out a little huff. "I'll bet loads of people have complaints about you," she muttered.

"Most people adore me, actually," James said brightly.

"Then they're lying."

He smirked. "Aw, come on, Evans, you're the one who suggested we be friends, remember? And you invited me along today."

She eyed him shrewdly. "Are you saying you would have shown up regardless?"

"No, I know better than to do that. My cousin got married last summer and had two people show up who hadn't said they were coming. She nearly murdered them."

"I can understand that. Weddings can be stressful."

James glanced at her, amused. "Why, have you been married before?" Then, horrified, "You're not _now_, are you?" He searched her left hand for a ring, swerving slightly on the road as he did so.

Lily jumped, grabbing for the wheel. "Watch it! I'd rather not die today, Potter. And no, of course I am not married. Do you think I'd be the sort to bring another bloke to a wedding if I were?"

"Probably not." Then, after a moment, "Hang on, are you in this wedding? Am I going to have to sit by myself in a church full of strangers?"

It was Lily's turn to look amused. "You don't strike me as the type who has trouble making friends. But no, the wedding party is all family—siblings and cousins and such."

"Good. And I do make friends easily, but that doesn't mean I like doing it all the time."

Shrugging, Lily said, "Yeah, I suppose."

Thankfully, the church had its own car park so it was no trouble finding a place. James let out a _humph_ of displeasure when Lily allowed one of the ushers to escort her to their seats. "What does he have that I haven't got?" he whispered to her as they slid along the pew to make room for other guests.

Lily just smiled.

Crossing his arms, James muttered, "His suit is rubbish, doesn't fit him properly at all." He could see Lily press her lips together to hold back a laugh. "It's the glasses, isn't it? You could never _see_ yourself with a man with specs."

Lily glared at him for the terrible pun, and then shook her head. "No, I like your glasses."

"Oh, so it's the glasses you like, not me."

"Shh, they're starting," Lily said, evading the question. Though she was right—two violinists had begun to play at the front of the church and all conversation had stopped. The three bridesmaids, on the arms of their fellow groomsmen, proceeded slowly down the aisle, separating at the front and spreading out on either side of the altar. A swell in the music announced the appearance of the bride, and everyone stood to watch her approach. Her long, beaded dress trailed behind her as she walked, a happy yet slightly nervous smile on her face.

James glanced down at Lily as Dorcas reached the end of the aisle and everyone took their seats again. Her eyes were shiny with tears, and James leaned in with a smirk to ask, "Need a tissue, Evans?"

"Oh, piss off," Lily whispered back, hitting him on the leg.

The ceremony was relatively quick, for which James was thankful; his suit was becoming uncomfortably hot in the un-airconditioned sanctuary. It was a short drive to the reception venue, a fancy club decorated with white, cloth-covered tables and chairs, lily-of-the-valley centerpieces, and a wood-paneled dance floor.

"There's only so long a man can be confined in a jacket," James commented as he and Lily found their seats. Tossing his coat over the back of his chair, he grumbled, "Bloody hot, that is," and began rolling up his shirt sleeves. Glancing up, he noticed Lily was watching him with an almost strained expression on her face, and a moment later she swallowed visibly. Grinning, James asked, "All right, there, Evans?"

Seeming to shake herself as a dark flush colored her cheeks, Lily nodded. "Fine," she said with forced cheerfulness, though James could swear he heard her mutter, "Bloody hell," as they sat down.

Normally, James would have pushed the point, purposefully trying to set Lily off her guard, but he wanted her to look back on this night—and him—favorably, so he changed the subject. "Now, the measure of a good wedding lies in the answer to one simple question." He nodded towards the drinks table, where a young woman in a smart black suit stood with her hands behind her back, eyeing the guests attentively. "Open bar?"

Lily tried to look disapproving but couldn't quite fight back a smile. "Yes," she answered with feigned reluctance.

"Brilliant," James said. "What'll you have?"

"White wine, please."

"As my lady commands," he said with a little bow, causing Lily's lips to twitch again. As he approached the bar, he realized the bartender was actually quite young, probably no more than eighteen.

"What can I get you?" she asked when James reached her, and he thought he saw apprehension flash across her face.

"Two white wines," he said, and the girl looked relieved. "D'you know the bride and groom?" he continued politely as she uncorked a bottle of chardonnay.

"Dorcas is my cousin, and I've met John a few times," she answered, careful to fill each glass to precisely the same level.

"Ah, so you managed to get out of actually being in the wedding and charged with taking care of the drinks instead. Well done," James said as she handed him the glasses.

The halfhearted smile she gave him suggested that perhaps she had wished to be in the wedding after all, and James winced inwardly. "No charge," she told him, though her eyes flicked, probably unconsciously, to the tip jar at the end of the table.

Setting down one of the wine glasses, James dug out a smattering of change from his pocket and dropped it in. He'd worked his fair share of weddings and knew that an open bar meant far fewer tips. "Cheers," he said, nodding at the girl, who smiled at him in thanks.

Returning to Lily, he repeated the sentiment as he clinked his glass with hers. They were soon joined by Marlene and her boyfriend, Andrew, to whom James was introduced as "that stripper I told you about" with an evil grin from Marlene. Luckily, Andrew seemed far more interested in his girlfriend's low-cut dress than James's "side job", and no further embarrassing comments were made.

The happy couple arrived shortly afterwards to much applause, and the serving of dinner commenced. There wasn't much chance to talk while they were eating, as much of the time was taken up with toasts from various family members and friends, requiring James to fetch another round of white wine and one of champagne.

After cake, the bride and groom began making their rounds to the different tables, stopping at the one where Lily and James sat first.

"Dorcas, you look beautiful!" Lily exclaimed, jumping up to hug her friend.

"As do you, of course," Dorcas returned before smiling at James. "No urges to take your clothes off yet, I hope, Potter?"

"Christ, I'm never going to live that down, am I? Don't know why I let you force me into it in the first place," James muttered, giving her a quick hug nonetheless and shaking hands with her new husband. After greeting Marlene and Andrew, Dorcas and the two girls chatted about the ceremony briefly before Dorcas said that she'd better move on if she was going to get to everyone by the end of the night. Marlene went off with her to greet a childhood friend they both shared.

Andrew, meanwhile, sat down on the other side of Lily. "You look really nice tonight," he told her. "Why don't you wear your hair down more often?"

James raised his eyebrows, but Lily didn't seem to find anything strange about the comment. "Oh, well, it takes so long to do, I have to blow dry it and everything . . . but thank you, I appreciate the compliment."

"No problem. Well, I should probably catch up with Marlene, but save me a dance later, yeah? I was all set to have you as my second date until last night, after all," he joked, finally glancing at James, who smiled back stiffly.

"I'm sure James will quickly tire of me stepping on his feet and gladly let me step on yours for a few songs," Lily said.

Andrew laughed and—James's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hair—actually touched Lily lightly on the shoulder before departing.

"Bit forward, isn't he?" James couldn't refrain from asking in irritation once Andrew was out of earshot.

"Oh, Andrew's always like that," Lily said dismissively.

"Is he?" James's forehead wrinkled as he wondered if Marlene would have said the same had she seen the exchange that had just occurred. "Well, you do look nice, he's not wrong about that," he said at last, deciding to let the rest go for now.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to admit it," Lily teased. The smile slipping from her face, she went on in a quieter voice, "I was supposed to wear this dress in my sister's wedding, actually."

"But?" James prompted, hoping she wasn't about to tell him her sister had died in some horrific accident.

Lily twisted a bit fabric around her finger. "But we had a massive row about a month before the wedding—I told her I thought she was making a mistake marrying Vernon and she said that if I didn't support their marriage then she didn't want me in the ceremony." She smiled sadly. "She didn't even let me attend it, actually. That was almost two years ago, and we haven't spoken since."

"Fuck," was all James could think to say. "That's—shit, that's awful."

"I'm sorry," Lily said, and James frowned at her, because that's what _he _should be saying, "I didn't mean to—to ruin the mood, or anything."

"Oh, believe me, nothing gets me going like talking about estranged family members. Just ask Sirius, he's got loads of them—" He stopped when Lily started laughing and took her hand, drawing her to her feet. "But come on, I'm afraid the only proven cure for sore feelings is alcohol."

She let him lead her across to the bar and didn't drop his hand even after they'd queued up behind an older gentleman and his wife. James did his best not to let a stupid grin break across his face, tracing his thumb lightly over Lily's knuckles as they waited.

"Old Fashioned, please," the man asked after the bartender had poured his wife a glass of wine.

"Um," she said, and James saw her cheeks go pink as she reached uncertainly for a bottle of whiskey.

"Excuse me a minute, won't you Evans?" James leaned down to murmur in Lily's ear as he extracted his hand from hers. "Have you got sugar back there, love?" he asked Dorcas's cousin as he rounded the table to stand beside her.

She nodded, handing him a ceramic bowl. James shook a measure of the stuff into a glass and searched around for a bottle of bitters. Swishing the two together, he nodded at the whiskey the girl still held helplessly in her hand. "Two fingers of that, and a twist of orange," he instructed, handing the glass back to her.

After adding these ingredients and a scoop of ice, the girl handed it to the waiting gentleman, who raised the glass slightly to James and smiled kindly at them both. "Ta, my dears."

"Thank you," Dorcas's cousin gushed at James when the man was gone.

"Don't worry about it. I must have mucked up at least a dozen drinks a night when I first started bartending." He paused, deliberating, and then turned to Lily. "Evans, d'you think you could entertain yourself for a couple of minutes while I give . . . er . . ." he glanced at the other girl.

"Christine," she and Lily said simultaneously.

"How've you been, Chris?" Lily added.

"Okay, at least until tonight," she said.

"You'll be an expert by the end of the night," James assured her. Glancing hesitantly at Lily he said, "I'll be along in a few, all right?"

"Sure," Lily nodded, "though I'll take that drink you prescribed before I go."

"Right," James said, eyeing the liquor arranged behind him. "Cosmopolitan?"

Lily shrugged. "Never had one."

"Yeah? Well if you don't like it, bring it back." James poured vodka and triple sec into a glass and added splashes of lime and cranberry juice to finish it off. Lily took it with an amused smile. "What?" James asked.

"Nothing. It's just . . . you've got a very particular way about you when you're bartending."

"Mmm, well, I haven't got time to flirt with you right now if that's what you're getting at," James said sternly.

Narrowing her eyes, Lily replied, "_No_, that's not what I was getting at, Potter. Remember what happens to my drinks when you push me too far."

"Do not waste that drink, Evans, I worked hard on that," James warned.

Obligingly, Lily took a sip, swishing it around in her mouth for a bit before swallowing. "Hmm. Not bad."

"I made it, didn't I? Now, get out of here."

"Good luck with this one," Lily said to Christine.

"All right, weddings are very easy," James said as Lily started off in the direction of Marlene and Andrew, tucking his sleeves up more securely. "Almost everyone is going to order wine or beer, the older folks because they can't stomach the other stuff anymore and the younger ones because they'll _want _to order a vodka cranberry but don't think it's proper for something like this."

Christine grinned. "That's what Dorcas said. She said it wouldn't matter that I hadn't done anything like this before because it wasn't likely anyone would ask for anything very complicated."

"Except for old pricks like him," James said, nodding in the vague direction the Old Fashioned gentleman had gone.

"He was nice," Christine protested, and James grinned.

"Right, so you know how to make an Old Fashioned now—I just do about a spoonful of the sugar and a shot of bitters," he explained. "How's your martini knowledge? That should about cover what people are likely to order. Oh, and gin and tonics, but—"

"I can make those," Christine interrupted. "My mum drinks them all the time."

"See, you're halfway through the James Potter Drinks course already."

They worked together for a few minutes before Christine commented, "I didn't know Lily was seeing anyone."

"Hmm? Oh, she's not. I mean, we're not . . . together."

"Oh," Christine said, sounding surprised. "You should be."

James grinned at his new protégé. "Great minds think alike, my dear Christine. Think you've got it from here?" He gestured at the bottles of alcohol around them.

"Yes, you're a lifesaver, thank you."

"Just helping out from one bartender to another, ma'am." James tipped her a little salute before sliding out from behind the bar table. Scanning the room for Lily, he was somehow not surprised to find her talking to Andrew. Cornered by him seemed to be a more accurate description, actually. He was standing about half a step closer than a friendly distance would permit, head angled towards Lily and looking like . . . well, James realized with a wry smile, looking exactly as he must whenever he talked to the redhead.

Andrew only looked up when James was about two feet away. "Come to reclaim her, then?"

" 'Claim' is a bit of a strong word, wouldn't you say?" James asked with a forced geniality. "Though perhaps I can claim a dance?"

"You may," Lily said with a smile. "Good catching up with you, Andrew."

"So," James asked pleasantly as he and Lily crossed towards the dance floor, "how long has our dashing young friend been in love with you, would you say?"

Lily stopped abruptly. "Sorry?"

"Come on, he was absolutely chatting you up before and if he does it 'all the time' . . . plus there's the fact that he's spent more time with you than Marlene this evening—"

"Oh, James," Lily said impatiently, starting forward once more, "don't tell me you're going to pull the jealousy act you blokes enjoy so much—"

"And what reason would I have for being jealous? You're not my girlfriend, and tonight was never strictly defined as a date . . ." He thought he saw disappointment flit through Lily's eyes but disregarded it and rushed on, "So do me a favor, and just take—two minutes, think back on your interactions with Andrew, and tell me I'm wrong."

He crossed his arms, waiting. Lily's expression, at first exasperated, slowly morphed into uncertain, and then horrified. "Oh my God," she said softly. "You really think—oh God. Do you think Marlene knows?"

James gave a short laugh. "Doubt it."

"Don't you _dare_ tell her," Lily warned.

" 'Course not, it shouldn't come from me," James said pointedly.

Lily looked shocked. "What, you think _I_ should do it?"

"Andrew's certainly not going to, is he?"

"And what's she going to think if it I tell her? That he and I—well, that we're—"

James scoffed. "Some mate she is if she'd jump straight to that conclusion."

Lily glared at him. "Well, I'm not telling her tonight, that much is sure."

"Why, because she deserves one more night of bliss with her twat boyfriend?" James shot back, a bit peeved that she was angry with him when it was Andrew who was acting the prat.

"And just how do you suggest our little chat would go, hmm? 'Oh, hello Marlene, yes, I only just realized your boyfriend's madly in love with me and I tho—' "

"What?"

James and Lily both whirled around at the astonished outburst from none other than Marlene herself.

"Lily, what are you talking about?" she demanded, sound on the verge of hysterics.

"Marlene—"

But her friend had already marched off in the direction of her boyfriend.

"Perfect," Lily snapped. "Well done, Potter."

"You know I'm not the one you're really cross with, Evans," James said, following as she started after her friend. "You're angry at Andrew for being a tosser, and at yourself for having no bloody clue and probably accidentally flirting back with him on occasion. Or maybe even on purpose."

He didn't know why he said that. It was a spiteful comment fueled by frustration at her ire, and he regretted it immediately.

Lily's face had gone very still, and her voice when she spoke was deadly calm. "You're a prick, Potter. And I don't know why I thought I could convince myself otherwise."

They stared at each other for a long moment, James knowing he should apologize but doubting it would make any difference. "Right," he said at last. "I'll just—" he jerked his head in the direction of the exit.

"Yes, I think that would be best," Lily said tightly.

And she turned away to find Marlene.

James drove home without really paying any attention to how he got there. Climbing the stairs to his flat, he almost hoped he'd been wrong about Andrew. It would make James seem more of a prat, but at least Marlene wouldn't have had to find out the way she did.

Tossing his keys on the counter, he pulled open the fridge and grabbed a beer. He had the sudden urge to smash it on the floor, but forced himself to take a long breath before opening it and taking a pull. Wandering into the main room, he slouched down onto the couch, drinking and thinking of nothing until there was a loud knock on the door.

The knocking repeated, more urgently, as James set his empty beer bottle in the sink. "Lose your keys again, did you?" he called as he moved into the entryway, figuring it to be Sirius. "I told you t—Evans," he said, startled to find her on the other side of the door.

"Hi," she said, and then fell silent.

James waited for a moment and then, thinking of something, asked, "Hang on, how d'you know where I live?"

Lily reddened slightly. "Well, you gave your number to Christine."

"I gave her the number for McClanighan's," James said slowly.

"Right. So—so I called there, and luckily Sirius answered, because he didn't seem to think me too mad for asking for your address, but then I remembered that you'd driven me so I had to find a cab . . ." She trailed off again.

"What are you doing here, Lily?" James asked after another minute of silence.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," she blurted out. "I was just upset, and I—"

"Christ, not this again," James muttered. Lily frowned. "We went through this last night, remember? You don't have to apologize when I'm the one being a prick. And I was, a major one."

"But you were a prick who was right," Lily said with a small smile. "Although I—I really _didn't_ know about Andrew's feelings until tonight," she said, eyes dropping from his.

"I know," James sighed. "Believe me, I understand what a challenge it is to flirt with you." He pushed the door wider, gesturing her inside. "So it was true, then? How's Marlene?"

"Devastated, of course," Lily said tiredly, shaking her head when James offered her a beer.

Cracking it open for himself, he took a drink before saying, "Good that she knows, though, I suppose."

"I hope she'll come to see it that way eventually. He just seemed like such a good bloke, and I was so glad because the men she usually dates are dreadful . . ."

"Most blokes are, sadly."

"You're not," Lily said instantly, and James raised his eyebrows. "I meant to tell you earlier, that was really decent what you did for Chris. I know she was nervous about doing the drinks, and it was sweet of you to help her out like that."

James's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "So one good deed washes out all my terrible ones?"

"No but," she shrugged, "it's nice to know you might at least break even one day."

He laughed. "Let me know when that day arrives and we'll go out and celebrate. Even if I'm in my fifties when it happens, I'll still be—" He was cut off when Lily suddenly closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his.

She pulled back after only a moment, even redder than she'd been when he answered the door. "Sorry. It's just—it's been such a long night—and your arms have been driving me bloody mad—"

"Evans," James interjected, putting a finger lightly over her mouth. "You have got to learn to stop apologizing all the time." And he brought their lips together once more, fingers running through her soft hair. Drawing away briefly, he asked, "My arms?" laughter dancing in his hazel eyes.

"Hush," Lily said, rising on her toes to kiss him again. This time James pulled her close, and they remained wrapped in each other's arms for several blissful minutes.

As they broke away with several quick, soft kisses, James ran his hands down Lily's arms until he clasped her hands. "So," he said, starting slowly towards the other room and towing her along, "I believe you still owe me a dance, Miss Evans."

"Do I?"

"Mmhm. And I'll even let you pick the song."

"How courteous. I suppose you'll throw me out if I say _Cherry Pie_," Lily said slyly.

"Yes. I absolutely will."

"Hmm. Do you have anything by The Beatles?"

James shot her a reproachful look. "I'm appalled that you even need to ask. I am a human who enjoys music, after all."

They danced long into the night, and Lily stepped all over James's feet just as she'd promised, and while he teased her endlessly for it, he wouldn't have wanted to partner with anyone else.


End file.
